Prove It
by GracefulDancingWolf
Summary: If his client hadn't insisted on picture proof of the bodies, Sebastian would never have found her. Sebastian Moran: Sniper-for-hire, discharged soldier, "tiger", father. First few chaps pre-Moriarty. Rated for language/situations. Chapter 23 up! (It's been a year since chapter 1 was put up too! Yay!)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone. I'm alive. And back to posting here. Hopefully regularly. First Sherlock story on , but over 170 documents on my computer that mostly won't be published.**

**This is not a Mormor story.**

**Did anyone notice that the Sebastian in the character list isn't Sebastian Moran, it's Sebastian from The Bland Banker episode. Sebastian in my story is the one that eventually works with James Moriarty, but the first few chapters are pre-Moriarty, as told by the time-thingie at the beginning of each chapter.**

**If that makes sense...**

**Anywho...**

**Disclaimers:**** I don't own Sherlock. I'm American and this isn't ****brit-picked. Not beta'd either.**

**Feel free to make constructive comments, suggestions for situations, or point out things I messed up, or just say you like it!**

**Follow/favorite if you want.**

**GracefulDancingWolf**

**Thirteen years before Moriarty. (Sebastian age 30, Devon age 3)**

If his client hadn't insisted on picture proof of the bodies, Sebastian would never have found her.

A raven-haired angel of a child with dark blue eyes and a button nose.

When he'd found her, she was playing in the puddle of blood from the two corpses: wetting her hands and making handprints on the bodies while giggling softly.

"What are you doing?" Sebastian asked her, squatting enxt to her to snap a picture of the bullet wound in the head of the woman.

"Hands!" She chirped cheerfully, looking up at Sebastian. She was only a few years old, judging by the way she spoke.

"I see. But what are you doing? Where are your parents?" He snapped a picture of the man and sent both to the client.

"Mama." She pointed to the female victim and Seb realized why she was here, "Dada." She pointed to the male, who had her dark hair and eyes, "Debon." She pointed to herself and saw something on Sebastian that made her smile, "Tiger. Rawr!" She pointed a bloody hand at his chest, where a tiger tattoo was peeked from his shirt.

Sebastian looked at the bodies and felt something new in his gut.

_Guilt_.

He'd taken this little angel…little _child's_ parents away from her.

When he didn't respond immediately to her mimicry of a tiger, Devon went back to making handprints on the bodies, sitting back as if to admire the red against the white of her mother's shirt, "Devon?" Sebastian's voice called her attention back to him, "Devon, come here." She got up and toddled over to him, ignoring the blood that soaked her socks. Sebastian peeled those off of her feet when she reached him and slid her bare feet into her shoes, "Can you say Seb?" He carried her to what he assumed was her room and collected clothing for her with one hand, "Come on, say Seb."

"Seb." She nodded, "Tiger. Rawr!" She tapped his chest with her hand and he grimaced at the blood. Well…there was a back door to this building. He could take her out that way. He carried her to his hotel room and set her on the bed, not sure why he had brought her with.

"Gun!" She pointed at Sebastian's rifle as he started putting it away, "Bang." She giggled as Sebastian smiled at her, "Tiger. Rawr!"

"Yes. A tiger goes rawr." Sebastian shook his head. She was a child. And he'd just taken her from her home. Not that it had been much of a home.

"Seb?" She sat down on the bed and blinked her dark eyes at him.

"Yes, Devon?"

"Ah." She pointed at her mouth and Sebastian understood she was hungry.

"Let me see." He grabbed the room service menu from the dresser and scanned it for a kid's meal that would satisfy her appetite, "Chicken?"

"Pasta?" She chirped, her wide eyes flicking over Sebastian's face.

"Pasta it is then." He called the front desk and ordered a small plate of pasta and a rare-cooked steak for himself. While they waited, Sebastian cleaned the blood off Devon's hands and got her a clean shirt to wear from the bag of clothing he'd collected. Her jeans were dark enough the dried blood didn't show, and even if it did, he wasn't going to let whoever brought his food up see her anyways. He just didn't like the idea of staring at a bunch of blood splattered butterflies while they ate. Cupcakes were still childishly stupid, but not blood-splattered.

When they had finished their meal, Devon yawned and reached for Sebastian. He tensed as she slid her arms around his neck and settled her face against his collarbone after giving him a kiss on the cheek.

For the longest time he sat stiff as a board, listening to her breathe.

He could snap her neck and be done with it.

Never see her again.

Never deal with her again.

But he found he couldn't.

Instead he combed his finger through her dark curls, promising himself he'd buy a hairbrush in the morning, along with non-cutesy clothing.

He brought his hands up to her joined ones and pulled her off of him and settled her on the bed. He'd take the floor and then they'd be gone tomorrow morning, back to his flat in London.

Sebastian woke in the middle of the night to Devon curling up next to him on the floor, using his jacket as a blanket and his arm as a pillow. When he saw the tear streaks down her face, he found he didn't have the heart to tell her to move, and pulled her closer instead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Couldn't wait to post this...Chapter 2 everybody!**

**Disclaimer and warnings in the first chapter.**

**Read, review, favorite, follow! Constructive criticism, comments, and even smiley faces accepted. Flames aren't.**

**Ten years before Moriarty. (Sebastian age 30, Devon age 6)**

Sebastian opened the door to his flat to smell the smell of fish with lemon and herbs. He set his bag down heavily and followed his nose to the kitchen, where his six year old adopted daughter stood on a stepladder overlooking a pan, her normally needle straight dark hair reigned back in twin braids down her back and one of Sebastian's grilling aprons tied around her skinny ribs, the sides overlapping by three inches on her back.

"Finally." She said as Sebastian walked past her for a beer from the fridge, "I was getting a little worried." Sebastian smiled and looked over her shoulder at the two tilapia pieces sizzling away in the cast iron fry pan.

"I wouldn't miss your cooking for the world, little Lynx." He gave an affectionate tug to her braids and set two plates next to the stove.

"I made dessert, too." She pointed at the stove at her knees before serving the tilapia, some pasta, and some peas to each plate. Sebastian carried each plate to the kitchen island as Devon got a pan of cookies from the oven.

"Sugar cookies? You spoil me, Devon."

"But you said you like sugar cookies!" Devon's face crumpled into a pout as she put them on the cool side of the stove.

"I do." Sebastian picked her up and kissed her cheek, "I love any cookie when you make them." Devon's face broke into a grin and she kissed Sebastian's scraggly cheek before he set her on the floor and they sat down to eat.

"How was the hit this time?"

"Good. Good pay, too." Sebastian chewed quietly for a second and watching his daughter's face for a hint about the answer to his question, "How was school?" He'd already gotten a call from the school and knew all about the problem.

"Meh." Devon suddenly became very interested in her supper.

"Devon…" Sebastian warned her. She put down her fork.

"I was getting bullied because I'm a girl and I'm good at playing football, and the guys all decided to try and beat me up and I punched one of them in the nose and I'm kicked out of school for a week, and you have to go talk to my principal tomorrow." The words came out in a rush and Devon's lower lip shook as she tried to read Sebastian's face.

"Well." Sebastian put his fork down and reached over to put a finger under Devon's chin, "I'm not mad. It just means I get to have some more time with you during your suspension. How would you like the zoo?" Devon slid off her chair and wrapped her arms around Sebastian's ribs. He smiled down at the little girl he'd rescued, "I take it that's a yes, then?"

"Yes it is, Papa! Thank you."

"You're welcome, beautiful." Sebastian kissed the top of her head and the happy pair continued their meal in silence, Sebastian washing dishes whiel Deovn got ready to watch Doctor Who.


	3. Chapter 3

**Short chapter, but these drabble-esque type things are set-up for the rest of the story. Bear with me for a couple more chapters, please?**

**Thanks to SirSnikrs for reviewing! You're awesome!**

**Thanks also to Forever-in-need-of-blood for following this and Purplepacker for following and putting this story on their favorites list! You are both awesome too! (Sorry I didn't say thanks to you guys in my second chapter. I'll get better at that now!)**

**KIND anonymous reviews accepted.**

**Kind reviews and flames will be mentioned in the following chapter.**

**Kind SIGNED reviews are even better because I get to personally thank you! (like I did above!) ((Follows and favorites will also be thanked!))**

**And now, on with the story. :)**

**Six years before Moriarty. (Sebastian age 37, Devon age 10.)**

Devon scanned the parts laid out on the coffee table in front of her, her hands fluttering over them as she tried to identify them in her mind.

"Come on Devon, you're never going to be able to have your dessert if you keep up _that_ pace." Sebastian sat across from her, eating a slice of red velvet cake slowly. Devon looked up at him, bit her tongue as she watched the bite of red velvet cake move, and directed her attention back to the gun parts in front of her.

With deliberate, but quick, movements, she started reassembling the rifle. Sebastian made little noises if she picked up the wrong piece or put something the wrong way, and she glared at him.

"I can _do_ it _myself_." She snapped at him, and he laughed.

If anyone else used that tone with him, he'd put a bullet in their head, but this was Devon. This was his little Lynx, "Ha!" She said triumphantly, laying the reassembled rifle on the table.

"If I shot that right this second, would it explode in my face?" Sebastian asked after swallowing a bite of cake.

"No, sir."

"Would it fire the bullet properly?" He asked, gesturing at the rifle with a bite on his fork.

"Yes sir." Devon nodded, "Can I have my cake now?"

"Fire the gun." Seb sat up and put the plate on the coffee table. Devon's eyes flicked to the rife then back up at his face.

"_In_ the flat?"

"You know the neighbors will ignore it." Sebastian had made sure of that when he'd first moved in, "Fire it and then you can have your cake."

"Fine." Devon picked up the rifle and loaded it with a single bullet. Aiming at the far wall, she readied herself to pull the trigger. Sebastian cleared his throat, startling her into slipping her finger off the trigger, "What?"

"Don't. I know you assembled it right." Sebastian smiled as she snarled at him and put the rifle back down before running to the kitchen to get her dessert, "Happy Birthday, Devon."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to SirSnikrs for the review, favoriting and following the story! Thanks to NatashaMulliganBVB for favoriting and following the story and me!**

**Read then review, follow and favorite as you see fit.**

**Four years before Moriarty. (Sebastian age 39, Devon age 12)**

Devon ran into the flat and saw the all-too familiar olive bag on the couch.

"Papa?" She walked back to his room and knocked three times on the door.

"Hold on!" She heard rustling papers and stepped back from the door to put her backpack on the ground and pull her grades out of her folder, "What?"

"I got my grades for the year." She handed him the paper and chewed her lip.

"Good. Good. Excellent. Wonderful. Not so good." Devon flinched. She had passed every single course except one: Physical Education, "How did you fail that? I know you could pass that in your sleep!"

"I…skipped…classes…a lot." She mumbled.

"_Skipped_ classes?"

"I'm so much better than the other kids…I would hide in the bathroom…and not participate so I wouldn't be tempted to punch the kids who bullied me." Devon scrubbed at the floor with her shoe, not wanting to look up and see the disappointment in Sebastian's eyes.

"Devon, head up." Sebastian growled. She blinked at the ground, trying to not cry, and raised her head, "Devon, do you think I'm mad at you?"

"Yes. You told me…not to skip classes…and I skipped…a lot of classes." She couldn't hide her tears now. She lunged for Sebastian's middle, "Don't hate me."

"Devon,"

"Please don't be mad at me for it, Papa! I'll do anything to make up for it."

"Devon!" Sebastian rarely raised his voice at her, but when he did, when he _saw_ the sheer _terror_ on her face, he remembered why.

It was the only thing he couldn't get her to forget from before he'd found her.

The first time he'd raised his voice, it had taken him nearly four hours to find her hiding in the washer.

The second time was worse. She had actually made it _outside_ that time, and was halfway to Hyde Park by the time he'd caught her and apologized.

The third time, she went missing for three days and returned home with a detective inspector holding her by the arm saying she'd been caught trying to break into a car.

Cradling her head, Sebastian whispered apologies, feeling her tears run down his neck as he hugged her tight.

"I'm not mad, Dev." Sebastian murmured in her ear like a horse whisperer trying to calm a skittish horse. Only twelve years old and she could run as far as Sebastian, which was pretty damn far, and could still slip into places Sebastian would barely have been able to fit in when he was learning to walk, "I'm not mad."

"I'm sorry." She let go of his shirt and he stepped away, putting his fingers under her chin.

"How would you like to go with me to Sussex for a bit? I won't let you take the hit, but you can come along with and I'll get you a new laptop." Sebastian said, giving Devon a kiss on the forehead.

"Really? You'll let me go with you?"

"My bag is already packed." He motioned to the living room, "I was just getting yours out to pack it."

"Mine? I don't have one." He showed her the new navy blue bag on his bed, "Only color available, otherwise I'd have gotten you black or olive."

"Thank you!" Devon hugged Sebastian around the neck, kissing his cheek and grinning like a fool.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi! Fifth chapter! Yay!**

**I'm supposed to be working on my major project for English but instead I'm doing this. (As long as I'm typing my parents won't know.)**

**Thanks to NatashaMulliganBVB and SirSnikrs for reviews, ashleymariestel for favoriting and following, and for following the story.**

**Read, review. I will thank favorite-ers, followers, and reviewers!**

**I don't own Moriarty.**

**Chapter 5: Moriarty. (Sebastian age 43, Devon age 16)**

Devon walked out of her job at the library near the flat she and Sebastian were living in and made it three blocks before she noticed a man following her. She picked up her pace, glancing at her watch and held out an arm to hail a cab.

As she reached out and waved, the man reached out and slapped a hand across her mouth, silencing her before she realized there were hands on her.

"MMPH!" She tired to scream, but the man put a thumb to her larynx, silencing her. A man in a grey suit got out of a car that pulled up in front of them.

"Hello, Devon. I hope Victor isn't hurting you too bad right now. You're coming on a ride with us." The man in the grey suit smiled. Devon slapped her foot down into a puddle and splashed the filthy water on him.

"Ugh." The man in the grey suit flung his hand out to the side, glaring at Devon, "_Brat_." She got her mouth open a bit and bit down on Victor's palm. He didn't flinch. She squirmed and managed to get herself to where she could kick him in the groin. Again, no response.

Her phone was taken from her pocket by the man in the suit, "Let's see…Alice. Brandy. Brayden. Carl. Ugh. That name." The man glared at her, "At least I know it's not that insufferable ass Carl Powers. Back to this…" He continued flicking through her contacts, "_Daddy_. That's the one we want, isn't it, Devon?"

"Mnn!" She kicked wildly as Victor turned and carried her to a car. His hand never left her mouth, but when he put his other hand on the back of her neck, she stopped struggling, knowing this man could, and probably would, snap her neck with any quick movement.

"Aw. Look at that Victor, she knows you can snap her neck. Such a good girl." The grey suited man patted the top of her head and she watched as he put her phone to his ear, "Sebastian Moran? Well. Isn't that lovely. Devon, say hi to Daddy." Victor took his hand off her mouth and she took a deep breath, her eyes darting over the grey suited man quickly.

"Black hair! Irish! Grey suit!" She managed before Victor covered her mouth again.

"If you _don't_ want my men to return her with a copper addition to her brain, follow the orders that were emailed to you this morning. More instructions will follow when you've done your job, and you'll not only have your beautiful daughter, but a permanent employer and good pay as well. _Especially_ if you do a good job." The grey suited man laughed as he hung up the phone. For a moment the only sound in the car was the engine and the Irish man's soft humming as he scrolled through Devon's phone some more. "Your daddy has a bit of a nasty mouth on him, love."

"Nnnmmm!" She lashed out at him, her feet missing his legs by an inch.

"Don't worry, love. Just relax." The grey suited man smiled as Devon flinched when a needle came in contact with her neck, "My name's Jim, by the way. Jim Moriarty. And now that I've got you, princess, the tiger you live with won't be able to stay away." Jim's smiling face swam and warped as the drug Devon knew she'd been injected with started taking over, "There we go. Take a nap, darling. You'll feel better when you wake up."

Across town, Sebastian Moran threw his phone across the room and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

He packed his favorite rifle, several boxes of ammo, a handgun, and a silencer in a bag before checking his email on the phone he'd thrown, thankful it had hit a chair and not the wall or something it would have broken against.

_Just think of it as a client_. Sebastian told himself as he locked the door behind him.

_A client that has kidnapped and threatened your daughter_.

_A client with very few days left._


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry 'bout the late update. :( I've been busy with a music contest being held by an orchestra program that my mom and I are involved in despite me being out of the program for nearly seven years now...)**

**Anywho, I've been attending (working) and tearing that down all day today and was too tired last night from setting it up to update. my feet hurt, it's movie night, and I'm excited. We met Moriarty last time, and now we get to see more!**

**Thanks for favoriting this story: **

**Thanks for reviewing: NatashaMuliganBVB and SirSnikrs. You both are awesome!**

**Thanks for following/favoriting me as an author: (for both) **

**Enjoy! Read, review, follow, favorite (if you haven't.)**

**~GDW~**

**Chapter 6: Around the same time as the end of chapter 5. **

Devon woke up on top of a white comforter in a white room with white gauzy curtains hanging from dark mahogany posts and her fuzzy, drugged mind decided she was sleeping in a cloud.

After finally convincing herself it was real, she sat up and worked her way across the king-sized bed, flinching as her feet found cold bricks. She briefly wondered where her boots and socks had gone, but remembered what her dad had taught her.

_Fifteen seconds of observation might add fifteen years to your life._ She heard her dad's voice in her head.

She padded to a window, wrapping her fingers around the intricate, yet thick, wrought-iron swirls keeping her from opening it.

Single story building, at least a mile from the nearest neighbor, middle of the woods.

Like some fairytale cottage.

A _twisted_ fairytale cottage.

She turned away from the window and found a desk.

_Find weapons: blades, heavy objects, anything._ She shuffled through the desk drawers and grabbed a letter opener and a pair of scissors.

The door behind her opened and she threw the scissors at the intruder.

They sailed harmlessly past the man she'd thrown them at, clattering to the floor outside the room.

"Easy, princess." James Moriarty brushed a hand across the side of his head then down his t-shirt to his tan trousers, "Put the letter opener down." She shook her head, her hand tensing on the ivory handle, her knuckles turning white, "My name is James Moriarty. I'm the man who,"

"Kidnapped me. Drugged me. Threatened my life." Devon listed off, locking her eyes on the man's jugular. He sighed and stepped toward her. She raised the letter opener, "_Don't_ come any closer."

"Oh, Devon, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Stay back!" She snarled, tightening her grip on the letter opener.

"Devon…_princess_," James took another step towards Devon and she pointed the letter opener at his throat. He sighed, scowling and narrowing his eyes at the girl in front of him, "_Fine_. You want to play _that_ game. I'll let you in on a secret." James grinned now, "If something happens to me, my men do the same to your dear daddy." Devon's eyes popped open and her hand shook before lowering the blade.

James grabbed it from her when her hand relaxed a bit and pressed it against her neck, "There we go, princess." She squirmed futilely, "You put on a brave face, but deep down you're just a scared little girl, aren't you? Yes, just a scared, stupid little girl that made handprints with Mommy's blood while the man that shot her mommy and daddy took some pictures and then took her." Devon flinched as the tip of the seven-inch long blade was dragged across her throat, not hard enough to leave a permanent mark or break the skin, but enough to get his point across, "I'm assuming you knew that last bit since you didn't respond." Jim sighed, the blade still pressed lightly against her chest.

"Follow me for breakfast, princess." He finally chirped after a minute. Devon opened her mouth to respond but snapped it shut when James stabbed the letter opener into the wall an inch from her head, "And don't talk back to me."

She looked at the letter opener as he sauntered from the room. He'd buried more than half of the blade in the solid wood beam she'd been backed against, "Yes…sir." She finally choked out, slowly moving to follow him.

"And none of that. Call me Jim. Or Papa." Jim smiled, "Now come on. I'm making crêpes. With lots of peaches."


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for late update. Went through and edited this...then did more editing...then did some English homework...then had family time that wasn't so happy...then forgot to update...not too bad, I know, but still...I was doing so good on getting this up on Fridays/Saturdays.**

**Anywho! Shortie chapter. Please R&amp;R!**

**Oh! Before I forget! Thanks to SirSnikrs for their review!**

**~GDW~**

**Chapter 7. 3 months later.**

"Devon! Breakfast!" Jim shouted at her shut and locked door, "Devon, it's your favorite!"

"Not hungry." She called out. Jim huffed and turned away, leaving a tray covered in foil in front of her door. Sebastian gave him the same response, and both ignored the trays he set in front of their doors.

Jim sighed and slammed cupboard doors open and shut before going to his room to stare at his computer. He'd placed hidden cameras in the main rooms of the house, the hall, and surrounding the house originally for protective purposes, but now used them to keep an eye on his two new housemates.

Sebastian opened his door, a backpack on his shoulders, and knocked quietly on Devon's door. She opened it and followed him out the front door, a matching backpack bouncing on her shoulders. He spun and slammed his hands into the window sill, watching as he called off the security teams moving to re-capture them.

He waited twenty-four hours exactly before sending out word that he wanted them found.

When they were found, they were already on a plane bound for New York under false identities. He'd expected that, but his employees had pictures of them, and neither one was smart enough to disguise themselves.

Jim set up contact with one of his workers, ordering her to keep an eye on Devon if she had to choose between one of them.

Devon was more important to him.

His problem was keeping her close once he got her back.


	8. Chapter 8

**A week late...sorry everyone.**

**Another short chapter...Action to come though!**

**Read and review please! ~GDW**

**(Sidenote: Did anyone notice the cover art? I have to thank my best friend for making that for me! Thanks tons!)**

**Chapter 8. 24 hours later.**

Devon rested her head on Sebastian's shoulder, yawning and scanning the magazine he was reading, "'_America by Rail…the best way to see America!_'" She whispered, "Very funny. I am not going to go around the country on a train."

"We can't stay in one place for long." Sebastian whispered back, "We have to keep moving for the first few months. That psychopath-" Sebastian was interrupted by a flight attendant passing by.

"Can I get you two anything? Peanuts? A drink?" The female attendant stopped with a glittering smile.

"Nothing." Sebastian growled.

"I'll take a water bottle." Devon gave the woman a small smile, "Please?"

"Of course sweetie. I'll be right back with that."

"She's," Sebastian started, only to get interrupted by Devon.

"Been checking up on us every twenty minutes. I picked up on that, too." Devon watched her walk back down the aisle, only stopping when someone asked for attention, "And she never stops to ask other people if they need anything." When the attendant returned, Devon accepted the water politely and waited for her next pass to stand up and "accidentally" bump into her with the opened bottle in her hand, splashing it into the woman's face, mostly in her open mouth.

"Oh _my_! I am _so_ sorry!" Devon gasped dramatically, "Oh _dear_!" The attendant pushed away from Devon, "I didn't see you there! I'm so sorry!"

"It's…fine." The woman snarled, marching past Devon and Sebastian straight for the back. Fifteen steps from the back, she collapsed and Devon capped the water bottle as other attendants gasped and started helping their fallen coworker up.

"Think she works for him?" Devon asked as she stored the water bottle under her seat.

"She must. I don't have any enemies that would know I'm on this flight." Sebastian whispered back, his eyes on the train magazine, "You'll like being on trains."

"Sure. Just as much as I'm enjoying this flight." Devon sighed, reclining her seat a bit, "Wake me up for landing."


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks for Chapter 7: Reviews: ChibiXHoney and SirSnkirs.**

**Thanks for Chapter 8: Reviews: Vi and SirSnikrs. Following: ChibiXHoney.**

**Long chapter to make up for being late lately! Read, review, follow, favorite!**

**As always I don't own anything. Oh and if you want a visual for Sebastian, it's Michael Fassbender.**

**Chapter 9: 8 months later. (4 years before The Great Game.)**

They spent three months traveling on various trains across the US before settling down with an old friend of Sebastian's in a small Midwestern town.

The peace lasted for a month. In the middle of the night, flashlight- and gun-toting people broke in and dragged Sebastian and Devon from their beds, drugging them when they tried to fight back.

Devon woke in a small room furnished with just two metal chairs and a small table, with no clue where Sebastian had gone. She got off the floor and gingerly sat in the chair, watching the door and the mirrored window across from her.

Some time, a man came in and sat across from her, his hands steepled in front of his face after setting a delicious smelling coffee in front of him.

"Tell us what you know about James Moriarty." The ginger man dropped his hands to the table when Devon steepled her fingers as well.

"Who's he?" Devon responded, deciding that playing dumb was her best bet at getting away from them.

"Come now. We know who you really are. Devon Moran, known here as Sabrina Adams, living with a woman known as Amanda Grace Reina Adams, and a man born Sebastian Moran known here as Daniel Adams." The man sneered.

"All right, ya got me. I came here under a false name via a witness protection program." Devon lied, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Lies won't get you very far." The suited man leaned over and growled in Devon's face.

"Fuck. Off." She hissed before he raised his hand. The slap echoed in the small room she was being kept in, and nearly knocked her out of the chair.

"I don't like hitting little girls, but I make exceptions for liars." The man growled back, "Tell us about James Moriarty."

"I don't know who you're talking about!" Devon screamed back. The man raised his hand to slap her again but a knock on the glass behind him made him drop his hand and get up to leave, "Don't I get a phone call or something? That's what you cops are supposed to do."

"What makes you think we're the cops?"

"Aren't…you?" Devon's voice trembled with uncertainty now. Her eyes grew wide with realization as the man shook his head with a vile grin.

"Look around." The man slammed the door and the lights went out.

_Fear mongering. They're using fear mongering. They wouldn't let me starve._ Devon thought wildly as she tried to keep her breathing under control. _What did Dad say about fear mongering?_

She sat as still as possible in the room, her eyes focused straight ahead.

_They work for Jim Moriarty. They have to._

She folded her hands in her lap. Her stomach was starting to hurt from being hungry for so long.

_Last thing I ate was dinner. It was two when they woke us up._

Her eyes snapped to the ceiling as the lights flicked on, bathing the cold grey room in harsh white light.

"Hi there, sweetie." Another man, this one a brunette in a brown tweed suit, entered with a doughnut and bottle of water, "Keep quiet about this," He said quietly, as if she didn't know this was part of the routine.

"About what? The good cop-bad cop routine?" Devon scowled at the man, "I'm not taking anything back from you but my belongings when you release me. I know my rights as a,"

"Yes, but didn't you hear my partner? We're not cops. We need whatever information you can give us on James Moriarty. Anything at all, even if it's just the location of the safe house that he kept you and your father locked up in, or even what he kept in the pantry. Anything you can tell us, dear."

"Wanna know where his house is? Miles away from here. What he kept in the pantry? Food. Can I leave now?" Devon snapped at the man.

"We need details, darling,"

"Stop it with the pet names." Devon snapped, "I told you what I know. When we escaped the only thing I cared about was running. I don't know what town it was that we ended up in. I didn't look at labels of food because I never made anything in the kitchen. I avoided being out of my room as much as possible."

"Devon, don't make this difficult. I…I've seen people tougher than you get hurt when they didn't give us the information we wanted. Seriously hurt. Some of them died from their wounds."

"Fuck off with the good cop-bad cop routine! I don't know anything!" She screamed, slamming her hands down on the table and standing up. The man pulled a Taser from his pocket, looking upset.

"I don't want to use this on you, Devon. Please sit down." She clamped her mouth shut and dropped onto the metal chair, "Thank you. Please think hard. There must be one detail you know without a doubt." Devon kept her mouth shut, pursing her lips and refusing to look at the man now. He sighed after a few minutes, stood up and left, leaving the doughnut and water on the table and the lights on.

A woman came in, her eyes fixed on her Blackberry. She sat across from Devon, not glancing up even once.

Devon directed her attention to her own fingernails, ignoring the woman.

"I've seen people killed for information." The woman finally said, but kept her eyes on her phone, "James Moriarty is a dangerous man. You got out of his clutches. No one's ever done that before. We want to bring him down. You're the only chance we have of beginning that process." Finally the woman's eyes lifted from her phone, "You're the _only_ chance we have right now of eliminating his network. He's been working in the shadows for years. We're trying to bring him down. He needs to be stopped." Devon bit at one nail, her eyes remaining away from the woman's, "Devon, _please_, he's a dangerous man. You have to let us know anything that could be used against him."

"I. Don't. Know. Anything." Devon snarled. The woman's phone rang and she brought it up to her ear.

"Sir, I," She snapped her mouth shut and listened for a few seconds, "Yes, Mister Holmes." She stood up and left the room. The lights went out again and Devon slumped back against the chair, her eyes fixed on the door.

"I don't know anything. I swear." She whispered, "I'm sorry, but I don't know anything." 


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for the wait. Had a death in my family at the end of the week. Spent more time with extended family this weekend than I have in the last four years. **

**Thanks to SirSnikrs for their review. You're awesome!**

**Read, review, follow, and favorite! Without encouragement, I'll stop writing.**

**Onward with the story!**

**Chapter 10. 20 hours later.**

Jim sat behind the mirrored glass, watching as Devon drifted off to sleep and jerked herself back to wakefulness. Finally, she slumped forward on the table and didn't sit up again.

"Now." He growled at Victor. The hired muscle raised a gun to the back of the head in front of him and pulled the trigger. Jim rattled the doorknob and pushed it open as Devon jerked into a sitting position, her eyes terrified, "Devon." Jim breathed, acting like he was relieved she was okay. She stood up on shaky legs and regarded him silently, "I'm here. Your dad's here, too. Let's go home, Devon. Let's go home."

"They...They want you…why?"

"We'll talk when we get home, Devon." Jim wrapped his suit jacket around her and pressed a protein bar and her phone into her hands, "You need to eat, don't you?" She warily opened the bar and Sebastian ran up to them after punching one of the men helping him get to a car when the man tried to stop him.

"Devon!" He wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair, "Are you okay?"

"Let's get in the car." Jim guided them to his car, pressing a protein bar into Sebastian's hand as well. Once they were on the road and Devon was leaning against Sebastian's side, Jim started questioning them.

"Did they do anything?"

"Fear mongering." Devon whispered, "A crappy good cop-bad cop routine."

"One of them used a Taser on me." Sebastian muttered.

"One guy threatened me with a Taser." Devon added. Jim wrinkled his nose.

"Nothing too serious though?"

"They wanted information on you. Why?" Devon demanded.

"Did they give you any hints?"

"That you're very powerful. And you're dangerous."

"Only to the people who dislike me." Jim smiled. Devon sat up and looked at Sebastian.

"They said we're the only ones who've gotten away from you." She leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, "And that they want to bring you down."

"Yes…they think I'm a threat."

"One of them gave me a name. Accidentally-on-purpose I think. Holmes. Mean anything to you?"

"_He's_ the dangerous man." Jim countered, praying his plan was working, "He runs the government. Tells people he's a "minor position" but he runs the whole thing. Me? I run a business…a _consulting_ business of sorts. That's all I am. A simple consultant. And he wants nothing more than to see me burn in hell."

"You wanted us for a reason."

"I did. You two have skills I've never had the pleasure of working with."

"So you want us to work with you." Sebastian said.

"Not _with_ per se…"

"No. Either it's with or not at all." Devon snapped, "And no more 'I get hurt, you get hurt' shit. If we get hurt, then you'd better goddamn help us, because if you get hurt, we'll help you get back on your feet. Deal?"

"Interesting." Jim leaned back against his seat and pretended to think about it.

"_Do we have a deal_?" Devon insisted.

"We do." Jim smiled and shook their hands, "Welcome to the family business, Devon and Sebastian Moran." 


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, hopefully I'm going to be back on my Saturday update schedule now. (Fingers crossed!)**

**Thanks to SirSnikrs and Ella for reviewing!**

**Chapter 11. Six months later. (2.5 years before The Great Game.)**

Devon stared at the telly as Jim walked in the house, "Hi, love." He bent over the couch to press a kiss to her temple. Her jaw tensed but she didn't jerk away from him or snap something rude.

"Hi, Jim." She finally mumbled, her chin resting on a pillow in her lap.

"What are you watching?" He asked with a frown.

"I have no idea." She looked up at him and muted the telly, "Is something wrong?"

"Sebastian told me there was something you've always wanted." Jim started off, gesturing at Victor to stop just outside of Devon's field of view.

"A motorcycle?" She perked up, looking towards the windows.

"No." Jim shook his head, "I'm not paying for you to smash your head open." He wrinkled his nose.

"I'd wear a helmet." She mumbled, sinking back down into the couch.

"Still no. Something quite a bit smaller than a motorcycle." Jim smiled, hoping she'd get it this time.

"My own sniper rifle?" She peeked at him over the couch, eyebrows arched and another hopeful smile forming on her lips.

"No." Jim wrinkled his nose, "Not for you." He didn't need her getting her hands dirty if she was going to be truly useful to him.

"Then what?" She turned her attention back to the telly, Jim thought maybe it was "Murder She Wrote" that Devon was watching. He bit back a sigh and waved Victor into the room.

"Victor." Jim gestured at the couch and Victor set a box next to Devon.

She ignored the package until it moved, which was only about ten seconds after being set down. Opening the lid, she gasped, squealed, and reached into the box, "I take it you like him?"

"Yesyesyesyes!" She lifted a puppy from the box, "What is he?" The puppy licked eagerly at Devon's nose.

"Czechoslovakian wolfdog."

"No _way_!" She leaned back holding the puppy to her chest, "He's too cute!"

"You'd better train him well, take care of him, and clean up _any_ mess he makes." Jim smiled before vanishing to his room, "Because if I find _one_ spot on any of those carpets, he's getting turned into shoes." He snarled at the closed door, "Now…where is that woman's number?"

***Kudos to whoever can guess who Jim's referring to!***

**Don't forget to review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**GracefulDancingWolf here! Thanks to Ella and SirSnikrs for their reviews! You guys make me feel super-dooper happy! Thanks to RainyDae21 and Shadow Wolf Warrior2 for favoriting me!**

**Sorry I updated late…my "I'm gonna update on Saturdays!" plan kinda crashed and burned, didn't it?**

**But here it is, so onwards!**

**Chapter 12. 1 month later.**

"Sebby, I need you to do something for me." Jim hugged the sniper from behind, "Do you wanna go kill someone for me?"

"Who, Jim?" Sebastian put down the spatula he was using to frost a red velvet cake for Devon.

"_Boss_." Jim hissed in the sniper's ear.

"Sorry. Who do you need killed, _boss_?" Sebastian stood straighter, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Jim looked at the cake.

"What's the occasion?" He asked, wrinkling his nose, "Devon! _Dog_!" He turned and yelled as the dog started barking in Devon's room.

"_Ichabod_, come!" Devon's muffled shout got the dog to stop barking.

"Devon's birthday is tomorrow."

"Oh…I need you to work tomorrow." Jim acted hurt. Sebastian bit his lip to keep from replying with all the holidays Jim had already made him work.

"I figured." The sniper spoke through clenched teeth, "So I'm celebrating with her tonight."

"I'm not invited?"

"Figured you didn't want any. You don't like red velvet cake with strawberry frosting. But you don't get a choice. It's Devon's birthday and I've made her favorite cake. That is one thing you won't change." Sebastian snarled quietly as Devon led Ichabod to the courtyard, "You can change how we dress, what we drive, what we shoot, what phone brand we use, and even what milk we drink but you will not take this," Sebastian gestured to the half-frosted cake, "away from either of us. Got it?"

"Whatever, Tiger. Victor's been killed. You're now my head of security. Remember my threat." Jim whispered quietly as Devon trotted Ichabod back into her room, "Your job is to take out the person that killed Victor. Information's on your phone." Jim wrinkled his nose one last time as Sebastian grunted in confirmation and returned to frosting the cake.

"What was _that_ about?" Devon popped herself up on the counter when Jim settled himself down on a couch in the living room and swiped a finger through the frosting. Sebastian shrugged and dabbed frosting on Devon's nose, "Ah!"

"Victor died."

"Hmm." Devon arched an eyebrow, "Poor Victor." She rubbed her face to hide a smile.

"Did you and Amanda have fun last night?" Sebastian asked.

"Oh…loads." Devon let the smile be seen now, "It was an awesome time. Got some new toys for Ichabod. Got to watch drunks fall over themselves."

"Who put the stuff in his drink?" Sebastian barely whispered in her ear, acting like he was giving her a kiss on the side of the head. She tapped her sternum and kissed Sebastian on the cheek.

"Like I said: Awesome time." She hopped off the counter, "Jim? I'm sorry to hear about Victor."

"Yeah." Jim waved a hand, "Enjoy your cake." He cast a glare over his shoulder as she kept talking quietly with her father.

**Jealous-much, Jim? Don't forget to review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Nothing really to say here this time...maybe next time I'll have something...Read and review, please!**

**Thanks to SirSnikrs for their review!**

**Chapter 13. 4 months later. (2 years before The Great Game.)**

Devon folded her hands politely in front of her, fixing her eyes straight ahead as Jim did business with a woman known as Irene. Irene, her assistant, and Jim were all sitting, while Devon was forced to stand just behind Jim's chair. She'd been standing in ungodly uncomfortable heels for more than an hour, waiting for Jim to let her leave.

Irene's assistant kept shooting worried glances at Devon, and finally spoke up, "Mister Moriarty, do you think your assistant would be more comfortable sitting rather than standing?"

"She's fine, darling. Don't worry about her." Irene said as she waved a hand in front of her assistant's face, "You're not here to worry about a little girl." Devon fought the urge to slap Irene, instead pinching the side of her left palm to distract herself from the comment.

"Devon, can you collect the tea things?" Jim looked at her expectantly. She glanced down at the ridiculous Louis-somethings shoes and back up at Jim, barely hiding her panic, "_Devon_." He repeated, gesturing impatiently at the tea things.

"Sorry…Jim." She wobbled forward and collected the tea things, then wobbled to the door, setting the tray down heavily on a rolling cart for the butler to move. She took a breath and looked at herself in one of the giant mirrors lining the entry hall.

Jim had dragged her into London three months after her birthday, the first time she'd been allowed out of the small town Jim's safe house had been built near. She'd been allowed flats for the first three meetings, but this one, Jim had set the shoes on the floor and told her to stand in them until he told her otherwise.

She inspected her face a little closer, noticing the shadows under her eyes that had been there for years before were gone.

She tottered back into the room and stood just behind Jim's shoulder, glaring at the short Irish man.

"So you need me to get some photos. I can do that, darling, but it'll cost you." Irene stood up, draping her coat over one arm. Her assistant stood as well and gave Devon an apologetic smile.

"What will it cost?" Jim stood as well, matching Irene's cat-got-the-canary smile.

"I'll decide _that_ later." Irene sighed, "Kate, let's go." Kate followed Irene from the room and Jim turned to stare at Devon.

"Well?" He asked, "You look like you want to say something."

"What the heh…" Devon bit her tongue, keeping her temper in check, "How do you expect me to wear these things?" She gestured at her feet, "These _aren't_ gonna work out."

"Learn to." Jim snarled at her, "You'll need to get used to them."

"You get to wear Gucci. _That_ I can pronounce. But these...Louvou-_whatever_ shoes are _insane_."

"It's only 12 centimeters." Jim tried to reassure her. Devon slid her feet out of the shoes and tossed them across the room.

"Get me shorter heels or I'll take off." She snarled and stalked past him for the hall.

"Devon!" Jim shouted after her as he collected the shoes, "Devon!" He found her staring out the window at someone, "Devon, that is none of your business. Now, you have some business that needs taken care of, don't you?" She turned from the window. Jim walked over and put a hand to her cheek, glancing out the window at the tall, skinny man walking by in a long black coat and blue scarf.

"No…I don't think so." Devon said, her eyes following the man as well.

"Those papers I wanted?"

"Done last night." Devon rolled her eyes.

"Everything?" Jim pinched her chin so she was looking at him.

"Other than professional photos. I made up articles, résumés, references, the whole lot."

"Such a good girl." Jim patted Devon's head. They both heard a siren followed shortly by a hair-raising howl from upstairs, "The _dog_." Jim levelled a stern gaze at her, "That _thing_ needs to be taught to shut up."

"It's the sirens." Devon replied, "I'll go calm him down." She ran from the room, "Ichabod! Stop it! Stop! It's gone!" Her door opened and slammed shut, and the howling stopped.

Jim looked back out the window at the man in the coat and scarf. He'd stopped to look up at the house when the dog had begun howling, but when he saw Jim watching him, the man turned and walked away, his coat billowing behind him.


	14. Chapter 14

**GracefulDancingWolf here! Hi to everyone reading this!**

**Kinda longer chapter this time. 1,111 words this time. (Just the story not this bit.) Summer break finally hit for me, so I'll be writing more, maybe updating my other story that isn't complete…maybe posting something new…(*hint hint*) I shouldn't post something new…I should complete the other story…maybe both…**

**Thanks to SirSnikrs for their review!**

**Anyways! Onto the story!**

Chapter 14. Six months later. (1.5 years before Great Game)

Jim was pleased with himself and his now officially adopted daughter. In six months time she not only learned to walk properly in heels, but also to hack computer systems, construct more than articles and fake web pages, and got the dog trained to not bark or howl at every passing siren. Now she just needed to teach it to not be sick on private jets and he'd be happy to not turn it into shoes.

"Boss, Devon's gone missing."

"_WHAT_?!" Jim rounded on the person in the doorway of his study, "How the hell did she go missing?"

"Irene Adler picked her up, sir." The young man leaned back slightly from Jim, as if it would stop him from getting shot.

"Irene Adler picked her up from…"

"She was at a café with Sebastian. Both of them were picked up by Adler, but Sebastian was dropped off here."

"Find that damn car and get Devon back here. And send Sebastian up here." Jim snarled in the young man's face. The man nodded, visibly shuddering in fear, and turned and ran.

The dog came trotting down the hall, glancing at the man that ran past it, "I'm not your owner." Jim growled at it. The thing gave Jim a stupid grin and trotted through his study for the door that led to the balcony garden Devon had set up. There was a patch of grass in a box for it to do its job out there, "Are you kidding me?" The dog pawed at the glass of the door, thankfully not touching the wood. Jim opened the door and followed the dog outside, "Devon's made you do that before, hasn't she?" He asked the dog.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she has." Jim turned to stare at Sebastian. The man had Devon's phone in his hand, and tried to not flinch as Jim snatched it away, fingernails scratching at his wrist.

"What did Irene want?"

"She wanted to take Devon shopping. Something about having better fashion sense than you." Sebastian muttered, eyeing the scratches on his wrist with a glare. The dog nuzzled his other hand.

"And you didn't stay with her?"

"No. Didn't think I needed to. Adler works with you, doesn't she?"

"No. Why would I work with that woman?" Jim asked, wrinkling his nose. The dog nosed at Jim's hand then, and the criminal mastermind yanked his hand away, glaring at the animal.

"You've seemed pretty amicable to her before."

"Yes. For negotiations. She works _for_ me, not _with_ me."

"Could've fooled me. You're normally an ass to the people who work _for_ you." Sebastian reached for Devon's phone. Jim stepped away, sliding the phone into his pocket. Sebastian knelt and rubbed the dog's ears.

"I was so close." Jim hissed under his breath, dropping into a chair and looking over the edge of the balcony.

"So close to what?"

"Nothing." Jim snapped, "Isn't there something you need to be doing?"

"Nope." Sebastian cracked his knuckles and looked out over London, "Finished that job this morning. What, Ichabod?" The dog was trying to climb into Sebastian's lap, and Jim had to move the table so it would fit. With a grimace, Jim let the dog have a cake on a plate, "You bought the dog for Devon. Why do you hate him?" Sebastian asked, playfully grabbing the dog's muzzle.

"I don't hate-" Jim was cut off by the dog barking and jumping off Sebastian's lap and racing into Jim's study, "It." He finished, "Shut it up will you?" The dog snarled and someone yelled in pain. Sebastian was up in an instant, drawing a pistol from his shoulder holster and a silencer from his pocket.

"Who is it?"

"One of your other workers." Sebastian shouted, "Jim, can you please come here?"

"What?"

"Miss Adler and Devon have arrived back here. Get the dog off!" The young man was in a kneeling position, the dog's teeth sank through his sleeve.

"Ichabod, off!" Devon snapped from the doorway, "Come!" She glared at Jim and turned to go to her room. The dog trotted after her, making happy little whimpering noises.

"Where's Adler?"

"In the front room, sir." The man checked his arm over, "The dog _bit_ me."

"Sebastian, hall please. You stay." Jim shut the door and pulled Sebastian's ear next to his mouth, "Deal with him quickly then come to the front room." Jim smiled as Sebastian nodded grimly and strode back into the office. As Jim walked away, he heard the gun shot dimly echo through the hall. Devon had corralled the dog into her room and was standing in the hall.

"She didn't brainwash me or anything. She needs help, that's all. I'm going to help her whether you like it or not." Devon said, matching Jim step for step into the room, "We've spoken." Devon took control of the situation before Jim could open his mouth, "I'll help you to the best of my abilities, but only until you find a new assistant. I'll give you four months _at_ _most_." Irene stood up and smiled, nodding silently.

"If you upset her, you'll be dealing with me." Jim snarled at Irene, "Understand?"

"Of course, Jim. I'll need Devon to move in with me for the time,"

"No. I will be with you morning until evening. I will not stay overnight with you."

"But,"

"No. You said you'd be willing to work with me on my terms. My terms are that I be able to spend time with Jim, my father, and my dog. I _will_ _not_ remain with you twenty-four-seven. You _will_ pay me for my time, and you _will_ _not_ be able to call me away from my family here when I am with them." Devon stared Irene down, "I will not participate in your…profession, I will simply be your secretary. I will field calls, respond to emails, and collect mail. I will not cook or clean for you. You will look at applicants on your own. Am I understood?"

"Of…course, Devon." Irene sighed. She stepped towards them, a hand outstretched.

"Thank you, Miss Adler." Devon smiled and shook Irene's hand, "I'll be in your foyer tomorrow morning." Irene sighed and walked out, shoving past Sebastian in the doorway.

"What just happened?" He asked.

"Devon just took control of a situation without being prompted." Jim smiled, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple. She squirmed away from him and kissed Sebastian on the cheek as she left the room, "You did wonderfully, darling!" Jim called after her.

"Whatever you say, Jim." She shouted back before shutting herself in her room.


	15. Chapter 15

**Short chapter...sorry. Next one will be longer, promise!**

**Thanks to SirSnikrs for their review!**

**Thanks to Na'vi knower and Nothing more and nothing less for favoriting this story!**

**Chapter 15 Six months later (1 year before The Great Game)**

Devon kicked her shoes across the front hall when she walked in the door, "I told that woman four months! Four months! It's been _seven_ and she's refusing to let me go!"

"It's only been six months, Devon." Jim picked at his nails, "Pick those up!"

"Why? I already have to pick up for that _bitch_ Irene. I want to do something for an hour that doesn't involve cleaning, organizing, sorting, answering a phone, or any of the other oddball, stupid things Adler's had me doing."

"Devon Moran, get back here and pick up your shoes!" Jim screamed at her retreating back as she ran to her room, "Devon, I'm not asking again!" Jim heard her thump around in her room for exactly fifteen minutes, then an eerie silence took over the house. Jim stood in the hall for a moment before running to Devon's door. He threw his body against it and heaved open just enough space to see that there was an open window, "Fucking hell." He snarled, and called someone to get the door open and another to chase her down.

"I don't care how you find her! Just do it!" Jim screamed, throwing his phone at someone. They took it to track Devon's phone.

Shortly someone came running back, two phones in one hand and Jim's phone in the other.

"It was in her room, along with Sebastian Moran's, sir." Jim stared at the two phones, his chest heaving.

"Find them. Find them now!" He screamed at the younger man, "I don't care who you have to kill but get them back here now!"

Several hours later, across London, Irene Adler let a brunette man and a blonde teenager into her house, "Well, that was fast." She commented as the teen gave her a glare similar to Jim's.

"Nice salon you sent us to." Devon mumbled, fingering her now ash-blonde pixie cut.

"She did a good job, made it look natural." Irene smiled and idly ran her fingers over the short strands, "Blonde is hard to make look natural. Brunette, not so much." She glanced at Sebastian, "You pull it off well, darling."

"Shut up. How fast are we able to leave?"

"Leave? You can't leave London. He'll expect that. He'll send people out to find you in other countries. He'll go back to your last residence and search there. You have to stay in London. Throw him off the scent, so to speak."

"You're sure someone will take care of Ichabod?" Devon asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Of course. They know how much he means to you." Irene gave Devon a smile, "I have rooms downstairs for you. Even if the lumbering oafs Jim's hired come in here they can't find them." She led the Morans to the kitchen and opened a door in the pantry. Stairs led downstairs, lit by dim bulbs, "It used to be a wine cellar, but I thought rescues might be necessary. For myself or for others."

"Thank you." Devon sighed, looking towards the front door as someone started pounding on the outside door, "Good luck."

"I don't need luck, darling. I know what his men like." Irene gave the two a sharp smile, "Each and every one of them."

**Read and review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi everyone! Thanks to SirSnikrs for their review!**

**Taken down to add more to this chapter...but now it's back! Also realized I'd been forgetting to put Devon and Sebastian's ages up...whoops!**

**C****hapter 16. Three months later. (9 months before The Great Game. Devon, age 19. Sebastian, age 46.)**

Devon woke slowly, feeling rough fabric in her mouth and an ache in her jaw. She moved her hands to bring them to her face and froze at a jingle. She looked at her wrist and the silver handcuff binding her to an eyebolt stuck in the cement block wall. She glanced around the room, at the high, small window that let little light into the room, the rough-finished cement walls and floor, and the rusted metal comprising the bed she was laying on.

"Finally. I was beginning to think I overdid it." She looked the other direction at the figure in the doorway.

Jim's hair was messy, like he'd been running his fingers through it, and had a pistol in his left hand. Devon recognized the gun as being her Beretta 92. Jim waved it idly as he spoke, keeping one finger on the trigger, "What did you do? Do you have any idea what you've done? You've nearly _ruined_ all of the work I've done in the last three years." Jim stepped toward Devon, "After all I've done for you and your father. You have no idea, do you? Your father was being hunted. Someone found out about one of his hits. You were both in danger. I removed you both from that situation." Jim turned to face Devon finally, and she flinched as he jabbed the gun at her, "I _paid_ for _you_ to be _safe_! I _paid_ for a _roof_ over your _heads_! I _paid_ for _food_ to keep you _healthy_! I _paid_ for your _stupid dog_! And you two are so _ungrateful_ that you run _away_ from me?!" Jim leaned down and ripped the gag from Devon's mouth, "Well?"

"I'm sorry, Jim. I'm sorry. Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me." She whimpered, trying to make Jim believe her. His foot collided with her ribs. She didn't scream, which disappointed Jim. He crouched in front of the gasping girl, grabbing what he could of her short hair to make her look at him.

"I _chose_ to have you two live with me. I _chose_ you to be my successor. I _chose_ to save you. And you're so _ungrateful_ that you _choose_ to run away rather than live in the luxury I provide?!" Jim's hand went up like he was going to hit her and she threw her arms up to protect her face. When no hit came, she warily lowered her arm to see Jim's back facing her, "I could have chosen _any_ other girl. And they would live with me without a question, with _undying_ loyalty. And I _chose_ you. The little girl who played with her mommy's blood and willingly went with the man who'd killed her." Jim leaned back toward Devon again, this time momentarily resting the gun against her temple, "Let's make a deal, shall we?" He stepped back and picked up a laptop, "Let's see. Oh, _there's_ the dog." Devon stiffened, "Here we go. I make _one_ little text message, and this man here?" Jim pointed at the screen where a man had a rifle trained on Ichabod, "He shoots your precious guard dog." Jim held up his phone, showing Devon the text message.

"I'll do whatever you say. I'll never leave again. I swear. On my life. I won't leave ever again." Devon began babbling, "Please Jim, don't hurt me. Don't shoot me. I'll never leave again." She whimpered at him.

Jim gave her a flat smile and whispered, "I know, Devon. I know."

Two hours later found Jim sitting in a metal folding chair in another cement block room, waiting for Sebastian to wake up. The sniper had already woken up once, but Jim had been so mad he'd pistol-whipped the sniper with Devon's handgun until the sniper had fallen unconscious again. Jim had gone to talk to Devon then, figuring she'd wake up shortly after that.

There was a slight change in Sebastian's breathing, just the tiniest hitch, but it was enough to catch Jim's full attention, "Now I know you're awake. Look at me." Jim snarled as the sniper's fingers twitched evenly.

"Thought I'd finally gotten free."

"Stupid thought. I'll cut you a deal though: You behave from now until you die, or I shoot Devon." Jim showed Sebastian a picture of Devon sitting in her cinder-block room with a blindfold on with a gunman pressing a gun to the back of her head. What Sebastian didn't know is that Devon wasn't being threatened right now. In fact, she was being served a simple soup and sandwich meal. The picture had been taken while Devon was unconscious, "So…how was your "escape", Sebby?"

"You probably know, don't you?" Sebastian tried to move, and Jim pointed Devon's handgun at him.

"I do, but I want to hear how much fun you think it was having no money, no identification, and no friends."

"We did have friends." Sebastian grunted, "Enemies of yours willing to help us." Jim raised the gun as if to hit Sebastian again, and the former sniper stared him down.

"Do as I say and I won't kill your daughter." Jim finally snarled, turning to leave the rom, "Your next job is tomorrow in Finland. Someone thinks he can hide from me up there. I need him dead, so you're flying out in an hour to take care of it for me."

"Let me see Devon."

"If you pull this job off perfectly, I'll consider it." Jim snarled, "Get him some new clothes and his gun." Jim snapped to the man standing outside the room, "Then get him to the plane."

"Jim, I need to see Devon."

"Pull off this job and I'll consider letting you two see each other." Jim squinted at Sebastian, "If you do it well enough. Details are already on the plane." Jim walked away, dangling the gun on one finger and whistling.

**Don't forget to review!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Finally another chapter! I hit a wall with this…plus my internet went out every time I went to try and post this. My "I'm gonna post every Saturday!" kick kinda never happened…did it? Oops. But anyways…here's the seventeenth chapter of Prove It.**

**3 months later (6 months before The Great Game, Devon Age: 20, Sebastian: Age 46)**

Jim began seriously "grooming" Devon to take his place after the Morans' final attempt at escaping him, and ensured neither person saw the other nor had any chance to escape. Devon was allowed little free-time away from Jim, only when he was meeting with Sebastian, Irene, or she was so exhausted she would collapse in the middle of whatever she was doing.

But locking the Morans up and refusing to let them see each other proved to be disastrous for Jim. Devon did just barely enough to get the job done, usually sub-par work to boot, and Sebastian stopped being tidy about his shots.

Jim finally had enough when he barely managed to avoid being arrested for fraud and he heard that his clean-up crew had been forced to eliminate five people who had seen Sebastian shooting a target.

That wouldn't have been a problem, if three of the five hadn't been other clients of Jim's.

"I needed those people alive."

"Really? You seem to want to destroy the world, so I figured it wouldn't matter."

"First your daughter makes stupid mistakes, nearly getting me arrested before I want to, and now you get three of my other clients killed before I managed to get what I needed out of them!" Jim threw a book across the room, missing Sebastian by inches, but the sniper didn't flinch. He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in Jim's direction, "That isn't the brand I bought for you to smoke." Jim snarled, catching sight of the pack, "Throw them out."

"After this one." Sebastian shrugged, taking a long drag and again blowing the smoke in Jim's direction, "Unless I see her."

"You'll stop if you see Devon?"

"I will." Sebastian arched an eyebrow in Jim's direction, "If you haven't killed her."

"Stay there." Jim snarled, turning to unlock Devon's door, "Out. Now." He snapped. She shuffled out, looking miserable, "What the hell?"

"I got a cold from that blonde dude you had me working with last week." She sniffed, "At least, I think it's a cold…I hope it's not something more serious." She rubbed her nose, "Hi, Daddy."

"Don't get close. I need him healthy." Jim snarled at the young woman, "And don't forget about that thing I warned you about." Devon froze, looked at the floor and stepped back, "Good girl."

"Devon, have you taken medicine?" Sebastian asked her, watching her shiver in a draft.

"First time I've been out of my room since I noticed the stuffy nose." She mumbled, rubbing one of her cheeks.

"Jim, can I give her medicine?"

"No. Tell me what you'd give her. I'll give it to her." Jim stepped between them.

"There should be some medicine in my room."

"In the medicine cabinet?"

"Top drawer of my dresser. Unless you've gone through my things and reorganized them to your liking." Sebastian called after Jim, then started walking towards Devon as soon as the criminal genius was out of sight. She gave him a panicked look and backed away, "Devon, what's wrong?"

"Jim…put bracelets on us. If we get too close they'll kill us. Electrocution." She whispered back, "Get back to where you were before, or else he'll get mad." She hissed, casting a look over her shoulder.

"This isn't going to go on." Sebastian growled, clenching his fists.

"What isn't going to go on, tiger?" Jim gave Sebastian a cruel smile as he reentered the room, "I could hear that entire conversation, you two." Devon flinched and started backing away from Sebastian further, "Medicine. Now, tiger, you've seen her. She's alive. Now both of you: do better than just "good" work and I'll let you two be in the same room for a meal or a movie. Maybe both, if you both behave."

"Yes, sir." Devon whispered.

"Good girl. Tiger?"

"Don't call me that. But yes. I'll do the best I can." Sebastian muttered, "Take care of yourself, Devon."

"I do the best I can, Daddy." She flashed him a small smile, one Jim didn't see.

"Bed for you, little miss. And you, Sebby, I have a hit in Germany for you. Details have been emailed to you, read them on the plane." Jim pointed Sebastian to the door and followed Devon to her room.

"Jim, I'd like it if you'd keep me updated on her cold. She doesn't handle being sick very well."

"We'll be _fine_, Sebastian. Now go deal with the moron that owes me money." Jim called.

Later that night, Devon found herself hugging the toilet bowl in her room and heaving into it, Ichabod standing in the doorway whining. When she had finished depositing her dinner in the bowl, she laid her head on her arms and listened to the static machine Jim insisted she used. If she listened really hard, she thought she heard words in it, but she was too tired and ill to care much about anything but making herself warm on the cement floor and making sure the toilet was within easy reach if she got sick again.  
**Kinda short chapter…please read and review!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18. The next morning. (Author's note: This is based on personal experience…how she acts is exactly how I act when I'm sick. -GDW) Kudos to SirSnikrs for their review. \^.^/**

In the morning, Jim wrinkled his nose at the stench, and stared at the young woman slumped against the wall.

"Get up. I need you to craft me an ID. Now."

"Jim…I'm sick." She moaned, trying to sit up straight, "I can't do anything."

"Work through it, darling." Jim nudged her none-to-gently with his foot, "I need you to hack into some records and plant an ID for me."

"Jim, I can barely move." Devon moaned, "I was throwing up all-" Devon choked on her words as Jim grabbed her wrist and hoisted her to her feet.

"There, you're standing. Now do I have to carry you to the computer or will you walk?"

"I'll…do…the best I can…as long as Ichabod can come." Devon groaned, grabbing the doorframe as she and Ichabod followed Jim. The wolfdog nudged her away from corners as she wobbled into Jim's study to sit at his computer and slowly began typing.

"Faster, darling. I'd like this one done by next week."

"Jim, I'm sick. If you want it done faster, get one of your other workers to do it or leave me be in peace for forty-eight hours so I can get healthy again." Devon shoved herself from the chair, glared at Jim weakly, and sank to the floor, heaving.

"Fine. Be weak." Jim snarled, turning to leave the room. Devon leaned against the chair and took deep breaths, "I don't have time to babysit you. If you can't work I'll find someone who's willing to work for me the way I want them to." He slammed the door and Devon tried to drag herself into the chair.

"Miss Moran?" Devon's foot lashed out in shock, expecting it to be Jim, and knocked over the trash bin.

"I'm fine." She snapped at the voice as she managed to shove herself into the chair. Her stomach lurched and she laid her head on the computer desk with a moan.

"Dev…who the hell are you?"

"I heard a crashing noise, sir, the dog must have knocked over the trash can." Devon turned her head to the side and stared at the young man with one eye as he lied, "I came in to check on Miss Moran." Jim put a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "Sir?"

"Get out before I skin you." Jim snarled, "Devvie, I have a question."

"Yes…Jim?"

"Is it okay if I borrow one of your shirts? One of the white t-shirts I bought you. I need it for a date."

"Go ahead. Do whatever you'd like." She mumbled. When he left the room she whispered, "Like my opinion matters to you." Those shirts had been a "gift" when she and Sebastian had run away the last time. She had worn one and found it was washed in soap that she couldn't stand and had shoved them in the deepest corner of her dresser possible.

She finished getting Jim a job at St. Bart's by noon and flopped on the office floor feeling exhausted despite the little physical activity she'd done in those five hours.

"So who am I?"

"A worker in the IT department. I used your real first name and gave you the last name of Brooke." Devon groaned, trying to get to her feet.

"Aw. You're a sweetheart. Let's see if you can handle some soup now, hmm? Come on. I'll help you to bed." Jim wrapped an arm around Devon's ribs and half-carried her to bed, tucked her in, and brought her some broth a few minutes later, "Give a shout if you want more or if you want medicine, okay, love?"

"Yes, sir." She mumbled, her eyes drifting shut. The last thing she saw was Jim turning the white noise maker on. Ichabod climbed up on the bed and rested his head on her hip, watching Jim.

"You will obey my every command, Devon. My every command." He whispered as he closed the door.

**Review** **box** **below! \^.^/**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thanks to A-D-E-E-E-R for ALL of her reviews and to SirSnikrs for his review! You are both **_**beyond**_** awesome!  
Chapter 19: Four months later, 2 months before The Great Game. (Devon: Age 21, Sebastian: Age 46)**

Devon's 21st birthday dawned as a cold dreary December day. The only reason she was looking forward to it was because Jim had promised to let her out of the house with Sebastian for the first time since their last escape attempt.

Sebastian was waiting in the front hall with the now ragged-around-the-edges navy gun bag on his shoulder and Ichabod's leather leash in his hand.

"I thought we…" She trailed off, motioning to the door and her even more ragged olive drab bag on the floor.

"I thought you'd like to come with me to Germany for some practice."

"Practice?"

"Where's Ichabod?" Sebastian asked holding up the leash.

"Ichabod, come here boy!" Devon called.

"I'm ready to go too." Jim stepped into the hall and Devon's face fell once again, despite seeing the brand new rifle bag strapped to Ichabod's side as he trotted over to her.

"Jim, we talked about this. you agreed to let us go to Germany alone."

"I know. You two are dropping me off at Bart's. Night shift."

"Jim, we're not,"

"If we leave this second, we'll have plenty of time to talk in the car." Jim sauntered out the door, "Come along you two."

"Coming Jim." Devon said without realizing it. Sebastian grabbed her shoulder as she walked past him.

"Since when," The sniper started to say, only to be interrupted by Jim shouting.

"Sebby, Devvie, _now_!" Ichabod walked beside Devon to the car, then glared at Jim as he lay down on the floor at Devon's feet.

"So…I need to know what you two would like me to get you for Christmas." Jim told them both, wrinkling his nose at Ichabod.

"Jim, we're in Germany for the next three weeks." Devon reminded him.

"Yes. I'll be meeting you two there in time for Christmas. We could have a little family party. Roast chestnuts, open presents, all that family stuff." Jim clapped his hands once and Devon nodded, keeping her eyes downcast, "That's settled then. What do you want for Christmas, Devvie?"

"Time alone with my dad is the only thing I really want, Jim." She fixed her eyes out the window, avoiding looking at the Irishman. Ichabod whined and nosed at her hand.

"Devon, would you like to be allowed into your old room again?" Jim asked, tapping his fingers on his knee in irritation.

"That…would be…nice I suppose…"

"That's settled then. And Sebastian…" Jim put a finger on his chin, looking as if he was thinking, "I think I'll get you a new suit. A Zegna-made one would do nicely." Jim smiled and opened the door, changing his demeanor immediately from dark and scary to bright and human, "Thanks for the ride guys. I'll see you later, yeah?" Before slamming the door and walking into the building.

"Thank god."

"Hush." Devon hissed at her dad, "In Germany." She reached down to stroke Ichabod's head, "Thank you for the rifle."

"Wait until you see it." Sebastian smiled. Devon gave him a smile back and relaxed into her seat.

When the pair reached Germany, they left their phones in the car, along with all of their weapons, to check into their hotel before wandering the streets together, relaxing from being under Jim' thumb.

"Do you remember when we did this after you got out of school that one year before Jim?" Sebastian asked as they dodged a couple who couldn't stop kissing as they walked down the street.

"Definitely. You let me pack my own bag and I packed a whole bunch of shoes and no socks." Devon fixed her scarf as Ichabod decided it was her leash and he could tug her along by it, "Stop that you." She waved a hand at his nose.

"What's he had you doing?" Sebastian asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Making up profiles about someone named Richard Brooke, arranging photo shoots to make an alias, being his personal assistant…all to get at someone named Sherlock Holmes." Devon wrapped her scarf tails around her neck, "Ichabod, stop. I know I have a long scarf. It's not a chew toy!" She flicked the wolfdog's nose and straightened back up, "Is there something you want for Christmas?"

"To see that your skills have not diminished."

"I haven't been allowed to fire a gun for years, Dad." Devon's voice grew quiet, "Jim won't even trust me with a chef's knife."

"Well, I'll take the hit, then we'll find somewhere quiet for you to get a refresher, how about that?" Sebastian wrapped an arm around Devon's shoulders as she started crying into her scarf, "Dev?"

"It's nothing." She said suddenly straightening up and wiping her face, "It's nothing." Ichabod stopped walking to stare at her, cocking his head to the side and Sebastian stopped to look at her.

"When did you get so tall?" He asked, noticing she was just an inch shorter than him now, "You grew up behind my back."

"Not like I had a choice." She snarled, her eyes growing hard and unforgiving then softening just as fast, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken like that."

"Since when do you apologize for…" Sebastian frowned, "Devon, what has Jim been telling you?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary." Devon shook her head. Sebastian watched her walk on, trying to conceive how he saw Jim's flat-eye stare in his daughter's ocean-blue ones, "Daddy?" She turned when she realized he wasn't with her anymore, coking her head to the left, "Is something wrong?"

"No, Dev. Nothing's wrong." Sebastian lied, unable to swallow past the lump in his throat as pieces clicked into place, "I'm just a little tired." And Jim Moriarty is turning you into a reflection of himself, Sebastian thought with a soft growl.

"Ichabod and I'll be fine for a bit without you. Why don't you go get some rest so you don't mess up the hit tomorrow?"

"Are you sure?"

"Go get some sleep, daddy. I'll be fine." She smiled and tucked her scarf tighter around herself, "I'll check in in a couple hours."

"Okay. Stay safe." Sebastian walked the seven steps to his daughter and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm wandering around with a hidden handgun and a wolfdog. I'm safe." She laughed and kissed his cheek. Was it his imagination or did she no longer laugh like herself but like Jim Moriarty?

As she and Ichabod meandered away, Sebastian turned and punched the brick wall behind him, "That fucking psychotic!" He stormed back to the hotel, "I can't save you this time, Devon." He paced the room, his anger clouding his vision so much he didn't see the note on the phone at first.

_We can help get you and your daughter safe. Call the number on the reverse side. Burn this note when done. -MH_

Sebastian dialed the number, "I found a note that told me,"

"_How much do you know about James Moriarty?"_ The male voice asked on the other end, _"Tell me what you can and I'll get started on planning the rescue of you and your daughter."_


	20. Chapter 20

**Thanks to 221-P- Baker and SirSnikrs (As "Guest") for reviewing. (Thanks for telling me the "Guest" was you, SirSnikrs.)**

**Chapter 20 The Great Game, Part 1 (Devon age 21, Sebastian age 47.)**

**Warning: Devon cusses a lot because I was in a mood writing most of this. **

"Why didn't you have me just give it to that man? He blows up, your problem solved." Devon shouted at Jim from the sofa as she watched the news. Jim stuffed a box of cereal back in the cupboard and dumped the last of the milk into his cereal bowl.

"Because then it won't look like an accident." Jim insisted, plopping down with her on the couch to eat his bowl of cereal, "It has to look like an accident, I can't kill him yet."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Language, young lady!" Jim acted scandalized and Devon rolled her eyes.

"Cut the crap act, Jim." Devon complained. He flicked cereal at her, "What the _hell_? You throw a shit-fit about me getting a few drops of rain on my sleeve opening a car door and yet you decide to flick milk all over me?!" She leapt to her feet and batted at her sleeve, "I can't wait for 'Jim from IT' to be dead."

"Aw, come one, Devvie!" Jim laughed.

"I have to go change now! Thanks a lot!" She screamed back, stomping to her room, "Just for that I'm in sweats and Ichabod and Katrina get to come out and watch telly, too." Devon had found Katrina on the streets that day she went to Baker Street and planted the bombs. A mutt puppy of indeterminable breeding, Devon had brought her home, cleaned her up and gotten her a collar before Jim could say no.

"If she pees on me again I'll skin her!" Jim shouted, moving to an armchair so neither dog would get at his cereal.

"You'll do nothing of the sort." Devon snapped and deposited the newest Moran on the couch, "Besides you said you'd let me keep her as compensation for making and setting those bombs which you could have placed and set yourself." Ichabod hopped up on a blanket on the couch and Devon made herself comfortable with Katrina in her lap.

"Have you even tried to figure out what she is?" Jim asked, keeping an eye on Ichabod as the big dog eyed the bowl in his hands.

"A pitbull-bulldog-boxer-rottweiler-labradoodle-schnauzer-chihuahua-cocker spaniel-greyhound-great dane mix?" Devon shrugged, "Or maybe,"

"Don't. Say. Another. Word."

"I know she has Rottweiler or Doberman in her, that's the coloring, but until she's fully grown we won't know anything other than she's going to be huge." Devon played with Katrina's paws, "I mean to be this small and have paws _this_ big? She's going to be enormous. Possibly even bigger than Ichabod." Katrina went berserk in Devon's lap as Jim turned the volume up on the telly to shut Devon up, and Devon laughed, flopping over to let Katrina get at her face.

"Look at your handiwork, Devvie." Jim laughed as he pointed at the boarded-up windows along Baker Street. Devon turned away, grimacing, "Devvie, you have to look at it. See what you did? Aw. They say no one was hurt." Jim pouted.

"Good." Devon whispered into Katrina's fur. Jim glared at her.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, Jim."

"Tell me what you said." Jim snarled.

"I said 'Good.' People shouldn't have to die because you feel like killing them, Jim. It's not," Devon began trying to explain. Jim cut her off.

"Not another word, young lady." Devon clamped her mouth shut and looked away as the Irishman stood up.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Did you finish the vests like I asked? Along with that envelope?"

"Yes." Devon nodded, refusing to meet the criminal's eyes.

"Good girl." Jim bent to press a kiss to her head, "I have a date with that Molly Hooper today."

"Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it." She whispered into Katrina's fur.

"I need you to help me pick out an outfit." Jim chirped with fake cheeriness, "Come along, darling." Devon groaned but followed Jim.

"Wear what you normally wear." Devon leaned against the doorway to Jim's room.

"Well. I don't know."

"The blue shirt with the stonewash jeans and brown loafers." She rolled her eyes, "The same damn outfit you wear every single date."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Devon groaned, flopping backwards on the bed, "And you go to the exact same place at the exact same time and sit at the exact same table and order the exact same thing. You eat for the exact same amount of time and then leave to catch the exact same train every single time. Molly at least throws a it of normalcy in the whole thing. She wears and orders something different each time. And she's tried to get you to go somewhere different a couple of times."

"I know the chefs at this restaurant. When you're as powerful as I am you don't eat just anywhere." Jim snapped, "You should get used to it. You're going to be doing it soon enough. You'll be the most powerful woman in London. You'll have all kinds of politicians in your pocket. You'll be able to order people to do whatever you want." Jim cupped a hand around her jaw, "And I've set it all up for you." Jim patted her cheek and practically skipped to the garage, "Don't know when I'll be back! Familiarize yourself with the changes I made to the plans for testing that detective!"

"Please let there be some sort of car crash." Devon whispered after the door shut, glancing at the plans on Jim's desk, "For their sakes."**  
Yes, I know it's impossible to have traits from all those different kinds of dogs in one dog. I'm just listing off random dogs for the heck of it. Read and review!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 The Great Game, part 2.**

**First off: Thanks to SirSnikrs and A-D-E-E-E-R for their reviews!**

**Secondly: To do every single bit of The Great Game in one chapter would take me FOREVER to write. So it's being done in parts. Each "case" for Sherlock will be a single chapter. I hope y'all enjoy!**

Devon sipped at lukewarm tea, Katrina slumped in a post-spaying vet trip haze and a cone at her feet, and listened to the voice in her headphones. Jim sat next to her, also wearing headphones and typing while sniggering at the woman's voice.

"_I've…sent you…a little puzzle…just to…say hi." _Devon flinched as the woman started sobbing again, went to remove the headphones but caught a glare from Jim that made her put her hands down. Jim heard something she didn't. He had an ear piece in one ear so he could hear what was said on the pink phone, _"I-I'm not crying. I'm typing…and this…stupid…bitch…is reading it out."_ A fresh wave of sobs made sympathetic tears come to Devon's eyes. The line on Devon's headphones went silent except for the sobs, then the woman spoke again as Jim typed furiously with a maniacal grin, _"Twelve…hours…to solve…my puzzle…Sherlock…or…I'm…going…to…be…so…naughty."_

Devon had given the pink phone to one of the lower level workers in Jim's pocket and passed along the orders to have it sent to Scotland Yard's Homicide Division, then snuck into 221C Baker Street, almost getting caught by the landlady, to dump Carl Powers's trainers the day before.

She was relieved when Jim finally took off his headphones, and followed suit, hoping the sounds of the woman's sobs would go away soon.

"Keep checking that website, for me while I'm gone now, darling, I'm bored of this and I feel like having some…other fun." Jim stretched, then sauntered towards the office door.

"And I can't?"

"Not this type of fun. I have to get ready to go see Molly at work."

"Are you going to break it off soon or what? This whole you playing the dude from IT is really bugging everyone in the house, not just me and Dad."

"Keep that opinion to yourself, beautiful. I'll do what I want to do." Jim waved his fingers at her and vanished, "Oh, Devvie?" Jim leaned back in.

"Jim." Devon responded, squaring her shoulders.

"Can you have salmon ready for supper? I had to order the cook be killed after he tried feeding me raw chicken." Jim wrinkled his nose, "Couldn't tell if he was actually trying to poison me or if it was an accident. I had him killed anyways."

"I'm sure that was an accident."

"Anyways, salmon for dinner. With that butter sauce or whatever you make."

"Whatever you say." Devon looked away from Jim's face. Katrina looked up at her with dull eyes, sighed, and laid her head back down. Ichabod trotted in with a squeaky toy in his mouth, trying to get Katrina to play with him.

"Thank you, darling!" Jim vanished again and Devon breathed a sigh of relief.

"I wish I could tell you that you won't get hurt." She whispered at the headphones,

He returned a few short hours later, giddy as a schoolgirl, and told Devon about how he had forced Molly to introduce him to Sherlock, "He picked up on the acting gay! Gosh, he is good!" He skipped around the office, "Check his website! See if he's answered yet!"

"Jim, I doubt he's…" Devon pulled the website up on her phone, "Nothing yet."

"Check again! And keep checking until he responds!" Jim flounced off, singing to himself for a minute longer before shouting for Devon's attention, "One of your dogs just puked on the floor, Devon! Clean it up!" Devon scrambled to clean up Katrina's mess and put her to bed for the night.

Jim remembered she was supposed to be cooking, then demanded that she cook and check the website at the same time.

"You get a choice, I cook or I check my phone the way you want me to. Pick one, not both!" Devon snapped. Jim stood stock-still for a second before his expression darkened considerably.

"Did you just talk back, young lady?"

"I-I'm sorry, Jim!" She cowered as Jim raised a hand, "I'm sorry!" She stared at the floor, expecting a hit or a kick. Jim's shoes turned and he stomped out of the kitchen.

"Forget supper." He snarled and vanished to his office. Devon shakily reached for the stove knob and turned off the pan, then sank to the floor, listening for Jim to come back and change his mind.

A while later, he came back in cheering, holding his phone above his head and screaming like a fangirl, "He responded! Oh, he is _smart_!" He glanced around the kitchen, looking confused, and spotted Devon sitting on the floor, "Why are you on the floor? You don't belong there, love!" Jim hauled her up by her arm and hugged her tightly, "He's soooo smart!" Jim let her go and frowned suddenly, "Now I have to give him a new challenge. Who to suit up next?" Jim stared hard at Devon, "That guy that's always bugging you…what's-his-name…he'll do nicely." Devon bit her tongue and tried to not let him see her panic, "Opinion, Devvie?"

"He's…he's a good bodyguard, Jim. It'd be a…shame…to waste his life." Devon kept her eyes fixed on a spot in the countertop.

"Hmm. I guess so. I'll get the one that screwed up guard duty last week instead." Devon breathed a silent sigh and finally met Jim's eyes, trying hard to not let her relief show, "Go get a bomb ready. I think I'll stick you on this one."

"Me? Really?"

"Yes, it'll be a nice change of pace for you, won't it?"

"An excellent change of pace, Jim." Devon breathed.

"Good. I'll tell you where to go in the morning."

**Read and review please!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22, The Great Game part 3.**

**I guess this is taking forever anyways…Sorry y'all. It was fine while I was free-writing, but now that I've hit the first major "I must write to a timeline" I'm kinda going "What happens in The Great Game?" And then I can't watch because I don't want to sit and take notes while my parents are watching me…On the plus side they did watch The Reichenbach Fall with me when it was on Masterpiece a while ago. (Downside is to get me out of my room they yelled "Hey Cumber-brat, what's this show called?")**

**Thanks to: SirSnikrs for their review.**

**Thanks to: WesternBird for followingthis story.**

**Onward! \^.^/**

Devon settled her cheek against the butt of her rifle and eyed the man on the phone a couple hundred meters away. In her earpiece she could hear the man's voice, thick with emotion as he read what Jim sent him on the pager.

"I'm stuck here for another six hours. Beautiful." She muttered, shivering despite having a heating pad stuffed under her coat and three pairs of socks inside her winter boots. Her breath puffed above her head in clouds and the laser sight on her rifle bounced all over the man's torso.

"Devon?" She turned to smile at the young man behind her, "Hi."

"Hi, yourself. I'm freezing."

"Hi, Freezing. I'm David."

"Shut up, you." She shoved him as he settled next to her.

"So, Jim hasn't been in contact?"

"No." I shuddered, "I think my heating pad is dying, dammit."

"Sorry. No spares."

"I've got company at least." She smiled at David, "Did you shoot anyone while you were working last night?"

"No. There was a rabbit, though."

"A rabbit?" She chuckled, glancing at the hostage in the street through her sight, "Poor thing."

"Nobody shot the rabbit."

"Hmm?"

"You said 'Poor thing'. No one shot the rabbit."

"I didn't say anything."

"Huh. Maybe I'm hearing things. Almost sounded like Jim."

"Hmm." Devon hummed. They stayed silent for a while, before Devon sighed and pulled out her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"A clue. I want to go back somewhere warm." She snarled, then talked as she typed, "The clue's in the name, Janus Cars."

"_Why would you be giving me a clue?"_

"Why does anyone do anything? Because I'm bored. We were made for each other, Sherlock." She tried to ignore David's stare.

"_Then talk to me in your own voice."_

"Patience." Devon turned to stare at David, "What?"

"You're sounding an awful lot like Jim now, Dev. What's going on?"

"Nothing. You make him sound like a villain. He's protecting us. He's keeping us safe. Keeping me safe." Devon turned her eyes back to the man in the street, "He's protecting me."

"He's changing you, Dev." David muttered, "I'm going to go get us some coffee."

"What?"

"I'm getting us coffee."

"No caffeine for me." Devon called at his retreating back.

**Anonymous comments accepted even if someone wants to flame me. You're entitled to your opinion, and I'm entitled to mine.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Apologies for the late posting! I'M SO SORRY! I'm not dead, I swear.**

**Thanks to everyone who was patient waiting! Special thanks to the musical bender and SirSnikrs for their reviews and to Meliko and Katherine Winchester for favoriting and adding this story to their alerts.**

**On a happy note, who loved the Christmas special? I watched it 4 times. What about you guys?**

**On another happy note this story has been up for a year! Yay!**

**On a not-so-happy note: Taking a brief break from the plotline of the episode. Not a happy break though. Not happy at all.**

**Warning for violence. May trigger some people. **

**Chapter 23, The next day.**

"Devon, I need you to sit in that chair." Jim pointed at the empty chair in front of his desk. As she perched on the edge of the chair, she noticed a tiny flicker of movement in her peripheral. As she turned to look at it, she felt a hand on the back of her neck.

"Don't move." Jim snarled in her ear, "You've been a bad girl, Devon. Why don't you tell me what you did? Confess your misguided doings. Maybe I'll be nice and _only_ ground you."

"I…gave Sherlock Holmes a clue." Jim let go of her neck and walked around in front of her, fiddling with a ring on his middle finger, "It was only a small-" He lashed out and slapped her across the face.

"What else?!"

"I-I-I don't know Jim! Honest!" Devon started crying instantly, holding her hands up and trying to protect herself from another blow.

"Who's been stalking me, Devon? Tell me now, young lady!" Jim slapped her again when she didn't respond, "Answer me!"

"I don't know!" Devon screamed, "Honest, Jim! I don't know!"

"_Fine_." Jim dragged Devon by the neck out of her chair, pulling a gun from inside his jacket, "Sebastian, do you know who's been following me? Answer quickly, because my patience with both of you is wearing thin." Devon struggled under Jim's hand when he pressed the gun to her temple, "Hurry up, Tiger."

"I…got a call when we were on holiday. Someone said they'd…they'd kill Devon if I didn't give them information. I don't know how they got your name or location, Jim, but they did. I didn't give them anything, I swear."

"That's not the truth, Sebastian." Jim moved the gun away from Devon's head, "I want the truth." He fired at the floor near Devon's knee, making her flinch. He let her go and moved to stand in front of Sebastian.

"Jim, that's all I know. They asked me if I had information on you. I told them I didn't even know who you were and hung up."

"Lies, Sebastian." Jim aimed the gun back at Devon without looking, and pulled the trigger.

"Sir, I know who's been stalking you." Devon looked over at David as he entered the room, "His name is Michael Thompson. He works for a man named Mycroft Holmes."

"Mycroft Holmes, hmm?" Jim kicked Sebastian in the stomach before stalking back to his desk, "You stay. Get those two out of here though. Preferably locked in the basement."

"No! No, Jim! Please! Don't lock me down there again!" Devon screamed as one of his underlings grabbed her by the arm, "Please! I'll be good! I'll do what you say! I won't give Holmes any more hints! Don't lock me downstairs!"

"You're grounded, remember? Two nights. Broth, bread, and water." Jim waved a hand as Devon fought against the man dragging her, "Now, David, who is Mycroft Holmes?"

**Please review. It makes me happy and I'll write faster this time I swear!**


End file.
